And the beat goes on

I am no longer pissed off and cranky, I would like to thank all of you who gave hugs in the shape of vaginas. Nothing better than potentially mixed signals sent over the internet to get me going through my day. But I am still very troubled and saddened, due not to any self-esteem problems, or because it just isn't happening between me and LAFS. I can deal with real life issues, I can sort them out, but technical issues are a whole different story and as it stands, fucking DOTS are all Sex says she can see when visiting my blog.

Let me indulge you on the only two landmarks in my blogging history.

Landmark #1 OCT. 11, 2004: (an excerpt from)My First Post

"Someone once said, there are two types of people in this world, those who are cliche, and those who apologize for being cliche. So first off, I apologize for joining the herd of pretentious bloggers who think highly enough of themselves to assume that others are just brimming with excitement to get a peek into their geeky minds. I just had to do it. But I feel so gay for being a bloghog now, I mean let's face it, these things are just electronic diarys for those who think they're sneaking under the gaydar because they type their thoughts as opposed to penning them down in a book with flowery pages. But slap me silly and call me Susan because I have feelings too damnit!"

Landmark #2 OCT. 24, 2004: Sex Scenes at Starbuck's first comment on my site.

"I see you read shftA too. You're pretty funny too. I'm right with you on the poetry, next to reading about the fight some fifteen-year-old had with her mother, poetry is my least favorite thing on blogs. Don't care, never will. I'll check in from time to time. cheers"

I object to the adjective "pretty" in the second sentence, but I'll let it slide because I was still warming up then. I must also give big ups to Jack, for if it wasn't for him commenting on my site, I would have never found him, and Sex would have never found me. I'd give him his own landmark but I'd feel gay.

So ever since Oct 24, 2004 I don't think there's been a single post of mine that Sex hasn't commented on. She has read about me staring at my penis in the shower, masturbating in the shower, discovering masturbation in the second grade, masturbating to white walls, and last but not least, me masturbating to her. I like to think of her as my muse, in more than one way. How's that for a double entendre?

But its not just her readership I admire. When I'm feeling shitty she tells me she'll fuck my brains out. I showed her my picture and she called me beautiful - hot, cute, pick your flavor. And she said it with sincerity too, she wasn't just blowing hot air at me while she played connect the dots with my pimples. That's a lie though, because I don't have pimples. She may not know me in the 3rd dimension, but she knows my prose and every weakness, strength, insecurity that goes along with it, and it all mirrors another dimension of me, which is something none of my friends know, but she does. That's what makes her, and the rest of you, important to me.

And the cynic may look at these so called online relationships and deem them over indulgent or idealism at its best. But I'd tell the cynic to go fuck himself. We all have lives here and we all know better than to buy into something that doesn't exist, but something is created every time I read someone else's blog, be it a new understanding of them or the world, and a certain sort of connection is made. And who says it needs to be physical, or by sight, to truly exist. So we all keep coming back, like little kids, knowing better than to ask too many questions, like whether any of this is real, or fantasy, or a mix of the two. Do we care?

Who knows if blogger is filling a void, or if its all so damn fun we keep coming back. It doesn't really matter if you ask me. I just love writing and being read.

So fuck you blogger, for trying to conspire against us. Your lifeless codes and 100010101010010 drivel have nothing on me and Sex, nothing!